Friday, November 4

Heart in a box

I was watching today's episode of 'Grey's Anatomy' and it made me think quite a bit about my own life. I am not a doctor to know if the medical procedures they show in the series is correct or wrong but in this particular episode there was a beating heart in a box. A real beating heart kept alive through a machine. In a series where the characters have seen as many deaths as they do, this beating heart - not in a person's body or stored in ice but - in the box represented inspiration. The Doctors looked at the heart in the box and got inspired, and it was every bit the miracle that all the Doctors needed to keep going through their day. The heart made them realize how passionate they felt about their work and it was so amazing to see them go back to work so much more inspired by looking at a heart in a box.

Since I have my final essay due by the end of this week and none written, I got to start thinking about my own line of inspiration.

Ever since I first read about Oscar Wilde, I was hooked. The man who lived so grandly and had to die in poverty, you cannot get a better artistic story than that. And when I read about the thousands of money Lord Alfred Dolygus made by thrashing Wilde after his death, it just made me more convinced I have got to know more about him. I couldn't wait to know more about him. Hence when I had to write a paper on his books, it gave me a chance to know more about him, his life, what he thought about. Although I am aware even reading all of his works will never let me glimpse more that a little of his life, I couldn't wait to start on my essay. Couldn't wait to write down all the things on my mind into paper and keep note.

In my second year, I wasn't a huge fan of Emily Dickinson. In fact I missed my tutorial for that class. I am not a huge fan of poems in general, was never realy good at it hence my reluctance to attend another poetry class. Turns out, my tutor waited for me thus forcing me to take the class. During that class, my tutor said the most extraordinary thing. It is interesting to know that most of her poems hasn't been titled, but instead numbered. He said it was because Dickinson died before she titled her poems and the publishers had to improvise and number it. It was so amazing to know that we could read her work, research her life and analyze her text thousand of times but still never find out what realy made her write what she did. It was such an intriguing fact, I haven't stopped reading her poetry ever since.

I have to write on Postmodernism this week. I spend the whole semester on her and considering I am in my fourth year, it should be easier to write that any of the other essays. But there is no 'heart in the a box', no incident that jumped up and made me want to write about it. Encounters that made me want to read more, to write more, to not wait till I could start writing. You can call me just plain lazy but I am not inspired. Not inspired to write about postmodernism, the way I was about Wilde, Dickinson or any other writers for that.

I have to write it though - it counts towards 20% of my final marks but I am just waiting and watching for the heart in the box to inspire me.

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About Me

I had this thought about starting a blog and an interestin name didn't realy pop up in my mind.So I thought I will go along with this considering I am a literature student and somehow the Maid of Astolat's life has always been a little too delicate and fragile for me to believe in, thus, perhaps if I see it everyday at the top of my blog I might just start believing someone so fragile and naive exist(ed/s).